2018 end of year releases

Thursday, 28 August 2014

Today Mel Teshco, Denise Rossetti and I
launch our new sci-fi romance series ES Siren. Set on the ship ES Siren as it
makes the twelve month trip to the planet where they are hoping to establish a
colony there is a mix of crew, military, civilians and prisoners (because
someone has to do the hard work).

To give you a taste for the stories here
are the moments where our heroes and heroines meet for the first time.

Rita slowed, then stopped at his cell and stared
through the flex window.

The shaggy brown-blond hair that drifted to
his shoulders was in stark contrast to the male soldiers on the ship, with
their closely cropped hair. But Tristan’s mane, shining beneath the overhead
light, did little to soften the hard angles and planes of his face. Not that it
mattered, his toughness didn’t detract from his magnificence. It just enhanced
his maleness, his magnetism.

Rita had no doubt he accepted her presence
as routine now. She only wished she could see something more … welcoming in his
face.

Anger swelled even as all her common sense
deflated.She wasn’t some lowly whore
beneath his worth! She was Chief Warrant Officer, commissioned officer in the
US army and officer in charge of work placement for the prisoners. She was a
rung below her lover, who was in charge of the prison guards, and she was sick
and tired of the men in her life treating her as something less.

She turned her wrist to the cell’s
identifier so it could read her implanted chip and allow her access. As an
officer, she wasn’t exactly restricted from going into Tristan’s cell, but it
was foolhardy to do so alone.

The door unlocked and she pressed it open
then stepped into his cell. Her heart hammered and the lower regions of her
belly tightened. She paused for a moment, to regain some semblance of
composure. Not for the first time, she wondered if he appreciated the fact that
no other prisoners shared his space. In comparison to the three standard bunk
beds bolted to the walls in each of the other cells, his living area was
expansive.

She cleared her throat. “I see they’ve
taken off your magna-cuffs.”

He’d turned back to his painting, as though
whatever about her had captured his attention earlier was all but forgotten.
“No. They’ve been relocated,” he corrected gruffly, lifting a leg to show the
magna-cuffs snaring his ankles.

It made sense. He’d be unable to fully bend
and flex his wrists with them on, and the powers that be would want to ensure
he could display his talent at all times.

She stopped, eyeing the canvas, which,
viewed from this side, was mysteriously blank. She didn’t want to see his
creation—it seemed too personal, too private. “I’m sorry they felt the need for
you to wear them,” she said softly, stupidly wanting only to please this man.
“I know you’re not a criminal.”

His eyes snapped to hers, blazing and
intense. “Yet I was tried and sentenced to serve the rest of my years on a
flight I never wanted to be part of, traveling to a rock I care nothing about.”

She arched a brow. On the few occasions
she’d tried to converse with him, he’d never given little more than
monosyllabic answers. But somehow she preferred that to his ingratitude.

“You’d rather live never knowing where
you’ll find clean drinking water? When you’ll have your next bite to eat?
Prefer wondering which bunch of looters-turned-murderers will next set their
sights on your stash of supplies?”

His jaw clenched. “Enough. I get it, I
really do. You want me to kiss the toes of all those in favor of throwing me
into a big alloy space-can that might well become my coffin.”

The prisoner, 1789, looked
as though he’d seen better days. His cheek was split open and blood was
trickling down his olive skin and into the scruffy, not-quite-a-beard that was
becoming popular among the prisoners, as it meant less shaving. Her gaze
flicked to his hands. His knuckles were red and grazed.

Joy, another incident
report. But she doubted the Warrant Officer had caused 1789 any damage. The
officer was younger than she was and probably weighed less, even with his boots
on.

“What happened, Sir?”
What excuse would the WO have for 1789’s injury?

The officer nudged
1789.

“I tripped and fell
down a few stairs.” 1789 looked her in the eye as he spoke. His voice was
perfectly modulated, but she knew it was a lie. If everything the prisoners
said was true, they would have to be the clumsiest people on board. More likely
he’d been fighting in the Rounds, but it was easier to agree to the lie. Safer,
too. Tattling meant punishment.

She nodded. “Fine,
I’ll check him out. Is he free to wander?” Or was he going to be confined to
his cell? If so, she would have to call someone to escort 1789. She never
walked around the male prison without another guard. She was almost a prisoner
herself—confined to the medical area. Lieutenant Zane could’ve put her in the
female prison section of the ship but this was his way of controlling her,
isolating her even further.

The WO gave a single
nod and then left, as if glad to be gone. The door clicked closed, leaving
Sienna and 1789 alone. Thanks, asshole.
Prick should’ve followed protocol and waited until the prisoner was locked onto
the chair.

“Sit.” She made her
voice as hard as she could.

1789 sat.

“I’m going to release
your cuffs and you’re going to place your arms on the chair. Clear?”

“Clear.” 1789 gave a
single nod.

This would either go
smoothly or be a cluster fuck. She was going to report the WO … not that it
would make any difference. Zane would ignore any complaint that she made.
Sienna released the cuffs and held her breath, keeping her finger over the
activate button on her wrist control.

As soon as he was
free, 1789 placed his arms against the metal arms of the chair. She pressed the
button before he had time to get comfortable.

If he’d tried anything
in those few seconds she would have hit emergency, locking down every prisoner
in a ten-yard radius, which would have required some explaining. She’d never
had to do it yet, but as one of the few women in the male area, she was aware
of her precarious situation.

“So how did you really
split your cheek open?”

“I fell,” he replied
in that same flat tone.

“Bullshit.” She hated
being lied to, and if there was something untoward going on, she wanted to
know. With Lieutenant Zane in charge of the guards, anything was possible.

He blinked and looked
at her carefully. “I fell, Corporal.”

“Onto a fist. You
aren’t the first to come in from the Rounds and I doubt you’ll be the last. So
would you like to try again?” She swung the imager between them to check his
face for broken bones.

“You know about the
Rounds?”

“Everyone knows, even
if they don’t watch and bet.”

His head jerked in a
nod, bones white on the dark screen.

“Hold still for a
moment.”

She scanned the
screen, looking for telltale black shadows or spider webs of cracks. Nothing.
But she saved the image anyway for his med file.

“He didn’t hit you
hard enough to break anything.” But it was only a matter of time. Something was
bound to go wrong in the Rounds.

Lily Kwan plonked a
bilious green plastic circle on the table in front of him. “A base for your
basket.” Determinedly, she pushed the glasses back up her long nose. “I’ve
pre-punched it,” she said, pointing to the holes around the perimeter.

Con stared. Though her
hands were narrow and graceful, with long, slender fingers, they were filthy,
as if she’d been finger-painting with camouflage colors. Two knuckles sported
blisters.

How would the clever
doctor react under pressure?

Without haste, Con
reached out, gripped her right wrist and turned her hand palm up. The skin was
marred with nicks and cuts, some healed, some not. “What happened to your
hands?”

The downlights shone
directly on her face. From behind the glasses, furious almond eyes met his.
They were a stormy gray, not the brown he’d expected.

Con’s lips curved,
very slightly. Ah, now they were getting somewhere. The peasant had
transgressed and the princess was pissed. It warmed his heart, truly it did.

“I work in a lab, all
right? I do experiments.” She tugged, to no avail. Her cheeks had gone a dull
red.

Lounging back in his chair,
Con released her, taking his own sweet time. “I see.”

Her spine snapped
straight. “Which do you want? Bamboo or reed?”

“Neither.” He gave her
a calm smile. “I’ll just watch the others for now.”

The blood beat beneath
the golden skin of her throat.

“Fine.” Scooping up
the green circle, she whirled around and headed for the sulky prisoners.

Con stared. Had he
thought their yellow shirts were the only bright notes in the room? A glossy
dark braid, almost as thick as his wrist, hung down Kwan’s back, bouncing with
the energy of her stride. Threaded through it was a scarlet ribbon.

~~~

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into the world of ES Sire, it's crew, prisoners and civilians.

Tuesday, 26 August 2014

Kathrine Leannan has released the trailer for book one of the Katana series, Warrior Born, which is out this month!

Congratulations Kathrine!

RELEASES

On Thursday, the ES Siren science fiction romance series launches, published by Momentum and featuring three fabulous Darkside Downunder writers. Here's the information on three stories that cover the drama and romance of life aboard ES Siren. There will be three more later in the year.

Yours to Uncover by Mel Teshco

Is she willing to sacrifice everything to keep her secret and her lover safe?

It's the year 2202. Earth is grossly overpopulated and seriously polluted. Rita Songworth has spent half her twenty-two years trying to escape the dying planet. It's taken the last five of those years to realize making it in the hard-ass infantry is her only way out, via space transporter Earth Ship Siren.

But the journey to Unity, the new colony, isn't easy. Rita has to resist an attraction to hard, brutish prisoner, Tristan MacFallan, whose masterful hands create more than the beautiful art he's been assigned to make. His forbidden touch affects her profoundly and he sees things in her no man ever has before. But obeying Kane, her ex-lover and malicious lieutenant, who is appointed to keeping the prisoners under guard, comes at a high price. Is she willing to sacrifice everything to keep her secret and her lover safe?

Corporal Sienna Jade wasn't given a choice about joining the mission to Unity. Seen as a troublemaker after reporting an assault by a senior officer, the army wanted her gone. Sienna resents the army for assigning her to Earth Ship Siren, and suspects the fleet's Unity mission will fail. But others would do anything to escape Earth ...

Alex Tariel knew his only chance to get a place on ES Siren was as a prisoner, so he stole water rations. As a former construction foreman, his skills make him a valuable prisoner on board, but still a prisoner unable to control his own life. Instead of keeping his head down, he gets involved in the fights set up for gambling privilege tokens, the only currency aboard ship among the prisoners.

Getting patched up by Corporal Jade might be the best thing that's happened to Alex on the trip so far, but becoming her ship husband puts him between her and the lieutenant who tried to kill her for kicks on Earth. While Sienna tries to keep control of her feelings for Alex, Alex would do anything to protect her, if only she'd let him.

As ES Siren faces its first crisis, a little trust and love goes a long way.

It's 2202 and on board ES Siren, the brilliant Doctor Lily Kwan has worked in secret to develop an antidote for the aphrodisiac rape drug, sexmeth.

She'd be overjoyed if it wasn't for an embarrassing problem: the antidote has no effect on her extraordinary reaction to Connor Madison, the Siren's tough quartermaster. Scientifically, it should be impossible, but the man's a raging fever in her blood. If a single dark glance sets Lily on fire, a kiss might kill her dead – but what a way to go!

A former gang rat from the slums of a dying world, Con came up the hard way, so when geeky Doctor Kwan tops his hit list of possible drug runners, nothing's going to save her—not her family's money, nor her clever mind.

Saturday, 23 August 2014

How did you come to write speculative fiction? What attracted you to the genre?

That’s an easy one to answer. I find books never have only one genre, there are usually one or two others poking their noses in. When my brain starts working, and the voices start talking to me (and each other), anything could and does happen. Romance, spirits, the past, present and future, and even magic can roll into the one story. My imagination knows few boundaries.

Are you a plotter? Pantser? Or somewhere in-between?

Somewhere in between. I usually have an idea where I’m going. I may sketch out a rough outline, but after that the characters take hold, tell me what’s to happen and I become the narrator.

Do you have a favourite of your characters?

I like Julia. Some of her traits and interests are similar to my own. On the other hand, Bill holds a special place with me as I’d love to remake an English Garden.

What are you currently working on?

My current work in progress is the story of two strong women born over a century apart, who find themselves in a struggle with the same foe.

I also have a partially finished work involving the futures of two worlds, where each need the others help to survive.

What is your favourite part of the process of writing?

Coming up with the idea and developing it. I won’t start writing something until I have a rough outline of what is going to happen, even if it is in my head.

What can we expect from JL Addicoat in the future?

Hmm. What to expect. I’m hoping to have two novels and two short stories published or close to being published in the next year. The short stories are extended versions of my competition entries in the Little Gems.

Who are your favourite authors?

I have a few and they vary. My favourite romance author has to be Anna Campbell. I admire her writing and I love her voice.

Others I admire for their research and stories are Jean Auel (Earth’s Children series), Kathleen O’Neal Gear/W. Michael Gear (First North Americans series) and Kathy Reichs.

What are you currently reading?

At the time of writing this I’m reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. I love how different the story is and who’s narrating it.

Do you have a favourite spec fiction movie or TV series?

I admit to being a Science Fiction nut. Star Trek, Star Wars, Intelligence, Defiance, they all ring my bell.

Do you have advice for emerging writers?

My biggest piece of advice for anyone taking on their dream of writing a novel is to not give up on yourself. Yes, it’s hard. Yes, there are so many ‘rules’. Learn the rules and stick with it.

Most of all, don’t get upset if you don’t make it the first time. Take what criticism has been made and work with it.

~~~

Thanks, JL Addicoat!

Blurb to Spirit of Love:

Old buildings have an eerie haunting feeling, and the 17th Century Manor house in the Cornish countryside Julia intends to restore, is no exception. Originally her dead husband’s dream, she feels it’s up to her to complete it in his memory. When she arrives she realises it’ll take more than a quick clean to bring the dilapidated old Manor to its former splendour.

While exploring the house she feels as if someone, or something, is watching her. Darting shadows and movements seen from the corner of her eyes appear to confirm sinister happenings at the Manor in the past. The discovery of an old diary hidden in a chest of drawers, and the story it tells, lead Julia in a different direction than she originally thought she would be taking.

Thursday, 21 August 2014

I'm delighted to welcome fellow Dark Sider J.L. Addicoat onto the blog today, to help celebrate the release of her debut novel, Spirit of Love. J.L. is also generously giving away an e-copy of her book to one lucky commenter!

Set in the rolling Cornish Countryside sits an old Stone built 17th
century Manor house. All though it’s had occupants before, many of them, none
have stayed.

Why?

This is the question Julia finally
discovers the answer to.

Why did I pick the Cornish country
side for my first novel, not a rural Australian landscape?

After all, I live in the dusty, but beautiful landscape of the Australian bush
in a small country town. The reason is simple to explain. My husband Kevin and
I are old building nuts. We live in a Queenslander built in 1904, still
standing on the majority of its original stumps. The house is the closest to
original condition in the whole town.

Both of us love Time Team and other archaeological programs and my ancestors
travelled out from Cornwall in
1865. Even though I have never been to Cornwall,
it’s definitely on my bucket list to go.

Whenever we see an old manor or
mansion in films, my thoughts often turn to the lives of those who may have
lived in the houses so long ago and what if?

What if there was a secret passage? Many old manors had priest holes and hidden
passageways for the servants to use.

Is there a hidden dungeon or basement? What may have happened down there?

Could someone’s insane Aunt Bessie
been locked in the attic and never let out? Could she still be there, haunting
the house?

As a child I was always reading. I read Erich Von Daniken’s Chariots of the
Gods when I was ten years old. My mind often wondered during school time, where
I would disappear into my own thoughts and visit places never heard of or seen
before. I wrote stories for myself and in later life, writing helped me through
the darker and more depressing stages of life. I suppose I was always destined
to be a writer, but it took a fellow Darksider, Imogene Nix, to make me do it.
I became her beta reader and the rest is recent history.

Thank you for letting me have a spot on Magic Thursday, and don’t forget there
is a giveaway of an ebook of Spirit of Love. (Gift Certificate from Rogue Phoenix
Press)

Turning the heavy iron key in the lock, an ominous creak sounded as
Julia tried to open the huge, rusting gate. It moved reluctantly. Putting her
shoulder to the rusted metal, she pushed hard. “Come on, you ton of junk. Open
or you’ll end up in a scrap merchant’s yard.” A loud crack emanated from the
protesting metal, and, as if it had heard her, swung open without a problem.
She brushed herself down. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? All I ask is a bit
of co-operation.”

A tangle of grass and weeds lay ahead. I have to drive through that? Julia ground her teeth. “I’m going to
have to get a new gardener. This one obviously doesn’t know what a lawn mower
or grass trimmer is.”

The grass moved in front of her. Startled, she jumped back. Something
scurried away underneath the tangled mess. She followed its progress with her
eyes, until it disappeared into the large, unkempt hedge near the gate.

A sense of foreboding settled in Julia’s stomach as she quickly returned
to the car. She didn’t know what it was about the manor, but each time she
visited, the hair stood up on the back of her neck. It felt as if something or
someone was watching her.

Starting the car’s engine, she drove slowly down the weedy, rutted path,
the car bouncing as its wheels sank into the potholes. Julia cringed at the
jolts and scraping sounds coming from underneath the vehicle. “I should never
have sold the Landcruiser. What was I thinking, bringing the Jag?” She knew
what she had been thinking. She was the Mistress of the Manor now, and wanted
to show off.

As she bumped along through the avenue of trees, the manor revealed
itself. Grey stone blocks of the façade gave a haunting welcome. Julia
swallowed a lump in her throat and tears pricked her eyes. It wasn’t right.
Richard should have been here with her. He’d wanted to restore the old mansion
for a while. This was his dream house.

Instead, it had become his burial place.

She’d promised, while she knelt at his graveside, to restore the old
manor in his memory. That had been two years ago. The memories of the time
still haunted her. Grief and loneliness had held her back. Mentally, she felt
stronger now, and able to accept having to carry on alone. “Get a grip on
yourself Julia. It’s an old house. It’s bound to have a few creaks and groans.”

Parking the Jag next to the front door, she unpacked, placing the bags
in front of the massive wooden doors. The leering gargoyle face on the door
knocker sent a shiver through her. Placing a hand over its face so she wouldn’t
have to look at it, Julia turned the door key in the lock and pushed the door
open.

She’d never been inside the manor. Richard had gone inside, but she had
stayed outside in the gardens. Just the look of the grey stone on the outside
gave her an eerie feeling. The same feeling assailed her now. She glanced back
behind her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Something or someone was
watching her. She was sure of it.

“Get inside and shut the door. Then they won’t be able to see you.”
Quickly picking up her bags, she kicked a small bag forward with her foot, in
an effort to get everything inside and shut the door. After closing it, she
turned around and gasped. The entrance opened in front of her. Large marble
tiles covered the floor, with the roof looming high above. A hand carved wooden
staircase in front of her wound its way to the first floor.

Oh, Richard. If you could
only see this as I am now. I can see you running up the stairs. Running your
hands over the banisters. Pulling up the carpet to see the wood underneath. I
can see the delight in your eyes.

She ran her fingers over a nearby wall. Tracing the raised wallpaper
patterns with her fingertips brought a sense of loss, a heaviness to her heart.
She could feel the loneliness of the building. To her, it felt neglected, like
it hadn’t been loved for quite a while. Like her. Great, now you’re associating yourself with a building. A moldy,
musty stench emanated from the old, red, patterned carpet on the stairs, and
she wrinkled her nose at the smell.

Once, people had walked up and down the rich, red carpeted stairs. She
could imagine children sliding down its curved railing, laughing as they
reached the curled end, then running back up the stairs again for another trip.
She smiled at the visualization it brought to her mind.

Now, the only footsteps it felt were from the mice chewing holes in its
carpet, showing the bare wooden boards underneath. Yes, this is a very sad house indeed. As she turned left into what
appeared to be the library, she caught a shadowy movement from the corner of
her eye. She spun and glanced around, but nothing was there.

“Hello, is anyone there?” Silence was her answer. Maybe a bird had flown in through a broken window somewhere? She
shook her head, chiding herself for being silly and so jumpy. She laughed to
herself. I’ll be seeing ghosts next.
A cold shiver ran through her at the thought.

Tuesday, 19 August 2014

Congratulations to Carolyn Wren, who has sold her first full-length novel to Secret Cravings Publications. Empathy will be out in March 2015. Here's the blurb:

What if you could feel emotions of everyone around you as a physical sense? What if someone you know is kidnapped, and you feel them die?

Three friends, their empathic gifts hidden from the world, experience every terrifying moment of a kidnapping and murder, as it happens.

Despite having no suspect, and no body, headstrong, stubborn, Meredith Baron has to convince cynical detective, Mike Stone of the terrible crime, by any means possible. Oliver Lord must overcome his unwillingness to reveal his special abilities, both to the distrustful Mike, and to Zoe, the woman Oliver secretly loves. When Kira Duke, the most powerful of the empaths is the next victim, a desperate encounter with lonely widower, Drew Atherton and his mysterious child, Sally, changes her life forever.

This unlikely group of people must work together before the assailant strikes again. But how do you catch a murderer, when your only clue is emotion?

S E Gilchrist has signed a three book contract with Escape Publishing in her Darkon Warriors world, (a science fiction, action /adventure romance series on the steamy side!). The next book, When Stars Collide has been scheduled for an October 2014 release.

AWARDS

Kylie Griffin placed third in the inaugural Koru Award from Romance Writer's of New Zealand with Allegiance Sworn. The Koru is a popular voted award, presented at the RWNZ conference.

Loving the Prince, the first book in the Jorda series by Nicole Murphy, has been released by Escape Publishing. The second book, Winning the King will be released in December and the third, Saving her Heart, in April 2015.

Cassandra Wiltmore is the heir to the throne of Rica, but it’s unlikely she’ll be stepping up any time soon. So she spends her days managing and building the Rican Balcite Mining Company. The company has made her family wealthy beyond imagination, but that kind of power needs careful control, and Cassandra is just the Wiltmore to control it.

When a new bid for the mining license is announced, Cassandra is determined to squash it. Then the thefts and threats begin, and every step she takes seems to be wrong. Taking on a new protector seems like an indulgence Cass can’t afford, but she equally cannot afford to be caught off-guard. If only the best man for the job wasn’t also the best-looking man she’s ever seen.

Kernan Radaton has ambition, and as protector to Cassandra Wiltmore, he’s well placed to reach all his long-held goals. If only his new all-business boss didn’t make him think of only pleasure. With the company, the heir and the family under attack, the last thing anyone needs is a distraction. But once everything is safe again, Kernan is developing new ambitions — ones that involve a lot of very personal time spent getting to know his boss on a very personal level.

Friday, 1 August 2014

Dreams or Portents?

My real life paranormal is not really mine
but my husbands. The dream was brought back recently by the disaster of MH117.

Many years ago in 1983 he woke up and said he had a nightmare. He said he was
on an airliner and that a jet fighter came along side and shot them down. He
jokingly said “as if that would happen.”

The following day the news came out
that a Korean airliner had been shot down by the Russians because it had flown
into their airspace. He was thankful that he had not had the same dream again
this time. It was probably coincidence or he saw something on TV but it
definitely sent a chill up his spine.

A witch is murdered in 1850 in a ritual that
will grant longevity to four men. What they are not aware of is that she has
bestowed the same power to another called Seth to avenge her death.

Cara lives in present day Bristol, and is a descendant of the witch. Having
been unlucky in love she fills her days with food with her Irish themed
catering business. Her nights are another matter; they are full of erotic
dreams of a mysterious lover, or nightmares with mutilated bodies. So this wasn’t
the best time for her Nana to tell her she is coming into her
power.

Maggie Mundy lives in Adelaide, Australia and is a member of Romance
Writers of Australia, and the local chapter SARA (South Australian
Romance Authors). She recently completed a Bachelor of Arts in Drama,
English and Creative Writing at Flinders University. She had a short
story published in the RWA Topaz Anthology Little Gems in 2010 called
Sea and Vines. She has two books out with Rogue Phoenix Press. An erotic
novella called Blood Scent and a paranormal romance called World
Change. She also has a supernatural thriller out with Soul Mate
Publishing called Hidden Mortality.
She has also performed for many years in corporate entertainment for
which she wrote her own sketches, which probably explains why her head
is so full of characters. She loves writing romance but thinks falling
in love can be scary, especially in her stories where creatures of the
night really exist.